The Protectors of Orinoco
by WintersHeartnf
Summary: It is said, that there once lived too great heroes in the land of the Summer Kingdom. They rose in a time of great need, bringing the hope and the strength of the people, uniting the two greatest courts in the city of Orinoco...
1. Chapter 1

**Preface**

_It is said, that there once lived too great heroes in the land of the Summer Kingdom. They rose in a time of great need, bringing the hope and the strength of the people, uniting the two greatest courts in the city of Orinoco, the Summer Court and the Court of the Rogues._

_ They were not the ordinary heroes you find in stories of dragons being slain, or wars of plague and suffering. They were not knights in shining armor or valiant princes. No, they were fair maidens. One they say was of noble birth, destined to be a queen, but did not believe her worth was so great. Little did she know that she was as radiant as the sun. The other, a princess in her own rights, but ruled a kingdom full of trickery and treacherous games, a court of rogues. This maiden new who she was, yet had little faith for the ruling class, and did not trust anyone but herself due to her past. Two unlikely people became friends against all odds and saved a kingdom. So they became a legend. The protectors of Orinoco…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1.**

She moved through the fair, weaving her way through the crowds on horseback. All the colors were swirling together to create a vivid painting of the landscape outside of the seaside capital in Summer Kingdom. The Lady Mairèad could hear the shouts of the many citizens haggling for the best price over exotic goods and noisy livestock.

She turned to her escort, the guardsman Vassily, and motioned to him that she was going to stop and rest for a bit. He scanned the area and pointed to an area by the fountain square, which happened to be the center of the whole market. Mairèad nudged her horse forward, Vassily following close behind.

The two companions dismounted and led their horses to the edge of the fountain. Mairèad turned to her saddle and opened her saddlebag up, as Vassily secured the reins, to bring out the bread and cheese to share with her escort and two apples for their horses as a treat. She sat down spreading her wide, deep blue riding skirts out so that they would not wrinkle from her sitting down. She wasn't in the mood to listen to another lecture on how she should take care of how she appeared to others and how a queen is to act properly, like not riding out amongst the peasants. It was enough that she had to sneak out of the castle grounds to escape the afternoon tea ceremony with Prince Henry, her intended, and the royal advisor Lord Bourseu. Mairèad thanked the Gods that her mother was attending to the Princes mother, the Queen today.

Someone calling her name snapped her from her thoughts as she had been dividing the bread and cheese between herself and Vassily. Mairead looked up to see her best friend Philip striding towards their seats, an easy smile sitting on his face, making his merry blue eyes twinkle in the late afternoon sun. The young baron was a good six feet tall to her petite five and three inches, so Mairèad had to crane her head to look up at him has he towered over her, on purpose of course, never passing an opportunity to rub in the fact that she was short.

At eighteen, Philip of Eagles Pass was large for his size; broad shouldered and well muscled. His dark, almost black, wavy hair was kept long and pulled into a horsetail. He treated her like a little sister, always overprotective and teasing her every chance he got. She was glad to have him though, one of her reasons being the fact that Prince Henry was afraid of him, so to speak.

"Mairèad, I knew I would find you here, mingling with the peasants as usual…," he drawled, not finishing his sentence as she glared at him.

"Just because I am a Lady, does not mean I should be cut off from the world. Its not like they are disease ridden rats," she pointed out, "Besides, I would rather be in a room full of rats than in the company of his royal highness of monotony." Mairèad huffed, and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

It was beginning to get too long, and no matter what she did, it was impossible to keep the fine, golden strands to stay in a single braid.

"Did you see the jousting tournament at least, while you were out by any chance? I missed the one with Sir Jonathan and that Lord from the small estate up north. I wanted to see how Jon did…" Philip added anxiously.

Mairèad pretended to think about it, knowing that the delay in their conversation would drive him out of his mind.

He stared at Mairèad intently, but she only smirked, knowing that she could outwait him in anything. He started to scowl, and then impatiently tap his boot against the cobblestone of the Fountain Square. Mairèad could not hold back her laughter anymore. As she sat their, clutching her sides, he started to growl, so Mairèad pulled herself together and managed sit up with only a muffled giggle.

"Oh…you think that's funny, do you?" he retorted. Philip definitely sounded agitated, Mairèad thought.

"Sorry," she gasped, "I just couldn't help myself, and no, I did not see Jonathan's duel."

Philip scowled down at her, but she only avoided his glare, pretending to smooth and brush the dust off her skirts. Silence followed their conversation, as she played with the strands that were curling around her face.

Philip cleared his throat, "Mairèad, would you like to walk around a little, let your guard have a break and the horses cool down?" He glanced quickly to the burly guard who was patting his horse absentmindedly.

Mairèad did not think it sounded like a bad idea, although the thought that Philip may be up to something fleetingly passed across her mind. However, she brushed it aside thinking that he would never do something foolish like that.

"I would really like that." She replied, and then adding to Vassily, "bring the horses to the nearest stable and have them stabled for the afternoon, then you may enjoy yourself, here are some coins."

She tossed a small pouch of gold Signets. Then she turned and took Philips offered arm, letting him lead her into the crowded streets of the Fair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2.**

Philip and Mairèad ended their long afternoon walk at the Golden Griffin, a well-known inn on the outskirts of the city Orinoco. They had met up with Vassily earlier on; and she dismissed him, instructing him to tell her mother she would be dining out tonight and not to worry. Then they rode their separate ways, the guardsmen to the great, stone castle perched high on the top of the hill, and with Philip and her making their way down the streets to the cozy tavern.

As they entered, they were greeted by the loud boisterous voices of men singing a drinking song. The bard was sitting by the huge fireplace at the end of the hall, surrounded by tables and chairs that were occupied an assortment of people. There were the serving maids, some trying to cater to the different needs that were being shouted out loudly, and the less respectable women were perched on a lap. Some were singing right along with the music creating harmony and others were just simply there to flirt.

Mairèad quickly maneuvered through the crowd to a quiet table against the wall. The pulled seats up and sat resting.

Philip caught the attention of a maid at the bar. She looked him up and down then glanced at Mairèad to make sure they were not together. When she was satisfied, she sauntered over, looking very much like a cat on the prowl.

"What'll it be?" the women addressed them, directing the question purposely at Philip. He gestured to Mairèad to go first. "Cider will do nicely, thank you." She said. "I will have some of the newly brewed ale every man seems to be enjoying at the moment." Philip gestured amused to the group, which now had fallen silent, to hear a ballad performed by the bard. "Right away," the women purred, and brushed past him letting her hands linger on his shoulder.

"By now I should be used to it, but seriously, do you need to lead her on?" Mairèad remarked. "Her, you're lucky I haven't put my full charm on, otherwise there would be quite a few women over here." Philip countered, a hidden threat masked behind laughter.

Just then, the women returned setting a flagon of cider in front of Mairèad, and plunking a giant tankard of ale in front of Philip, the sweet alcohol slopping over the sides onto the wooden tabletop.

They offered her coin, and she swiped from their hands, greedily counting them in her palm. "Thank you kindly, and if you be needing any more services…" she glanced meaningfully over at Philip. "I'll let you know." He promptly replied. With a satisfied grin, she walked away.

Mairèad looked around, scanning the now tearful crowd of men, listening to the tragic ballad, thinking to herself how the men will deny ever crying, claiming that it was because of the drink.

"It is a good thing nobody knows us here, or is to drunk to notice us; otherwise they would be behaving themselves and robbing us of this fine entertainment." Philip remarked loudly, she could tell that the drink was starting to affect him.

She ignored him, smoothing out her skirts and bobbing her head to the melody. She turned her gaze to the other side of the hall, looking at all the people enjoying their meals and occasionally singing along to the rambunctious songs.

Suddenly a force pushed her off her chair. "Sorry Lady, I did not see you there," a soft lilting voice spoke behind her. She turned in her chair with a huff to reprimand whoever it was that had the nerve to be so rude. She stopped short of her curt reply.

She had come face to face with a tall and lean young man. His odd topaz eyes twinkling in the dim room. He pushed a hand through his messy bronze hair, and she watched mesmerized as it fell to her chair. "Are you okay, La-" he was cut off by a very loud Philip.

"Get your filthy hands off her, donchya know who yer talkin' to? It's the Lady Mairèad, thaz who…" his speech becoming more and more slurred with each word he spoke.

"My apologies', madam, I did not know I was addressing my _betters_…," he said, letting the sentence run off purposely as he turned, his gaze hardening, and strode away.

"Philip, gods bless it, I hope you have a bad hangover tomorrow. Now we won't have any peace!" Mairèad said exasperated.

She noticed the room had become silent. "What!?" she yelled, losing her calm, and letting her true self take over.

"Milady," a man slurred, _'a merchant by the looks of his rich but shabby clothes'_, she thought.

"Yes?" she said impatiently.

"We was wunderin', ya'know, me'n and the fellas, we was thinkin' maybe you could sing us a ditty or sumtin', we heard all 'bout yer pretty voice…" the men all murmured their agreement.

She looked around at all the hopeful faces, and then glanced at Philip. He nodded enthusiastically. "Yah, Mairèad, sing as a real pretty song, one of yer pretty imagining songs!" She sighed, and started to say no, but was cut short by a taunting, beautiful voice.

"Yes, Lady, by all means, grace us with your wondrous voice," he sarcastically added, distaste dripping from his voice, "or are you too good for us, or could it be you're scared of us common people?" It was a flat out challenge.

The young man, as she sized him up and own, was no doubt rogue, definitely a dishonest, untrustworthy man. He was dressed all in black leather, and she could count numerous daggers and pouches that hung from a belt peaking out from beneath his cape. On the other hand, maybe he is an assassin; those daggers looked sharp and menacing. Nothing she could not handle, she assured herself.

She glared at him, and stood from her chair, making her way to the fireplace. She turned down the offered chair placed there, and turned to face her now intent and quiet audience. 'Gods, what have I gotten myself into' she thought to herself.

She took the bards' offered lyre and tuned it to the right pitch. "I will sing you the song of a dream of mine, it is something I have composed myself, and no one has heard it before you. It is my gift to this fine tavern and its equally fine people." She said, letting her voice carry throughout the hall to its darkest corners. Then she plucked the first note and began to sing softly…

We're walking in the air; we're floating in the sky.

We're walking in the air…

We're walking in the air,

We're floating in the moonlit sky,

The people far below are sleeping as we fly.

We're holding very tight,

I'm riding in the midnight blue,

I'm finding I can fly so high above with you.

All across the world,

The villages go by like dreams,

The rivers and the hills, the forest and the streams.

She smiled, as she heard the people exclaim their wonder, she would show that confounded boy who she was, and she would proudly hold her head high in the process…

Children gaze open-mouthed,

Taken by surprise.

Nobody, down below,

Believes their eyes.

We're surfing in the air,

We're swimming in the frozen sky,

We're drifting over high, see mountains floating by.

Suddenly, swooping low,

On an ocean deep.

Rising up, a mighty monster,

From his sleep.

We're walking in the air,

We're dancing in the midnight sky,

And everyone who sees us flees us as we fly.

Mairèad finished softly, and the first thing she noticed when she looked up was that the young man, who had been so rude, had disappeared. She was deaf to the clapping and compliments being shouted to the high heavens. A piercing whistle caught her attention.

"You were amazing, it was just like magic, the way your voice seemed to linger and the way you wove the words together, like magic I tell you!" Philip shouted excitedly, trying to talk over all the noise. Mairèad only nodded her head to acknowledge that she heard him, but she was lost in her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3.**

Her voice still haunted his memory, making it almost impossible to concentrate on where he was going. He turned a corner around one of the small town houses in the lower part of the city.

She had seemed to glow as she stood there, singing her very heart to the crowd. He knew he was foolish to have challenged her like that, but the words just slipped right between his lips and he had found her staring at him, her posture rigid and defiant. Her eyes the color of the sea they lived by, glowing in the dimness of the tavern. The way she had stared at him still sent shivers down his spine. Lady Mairèad of Cilicader, the despised Prince Henrys' betrothed (Prince Henry, not Mairèad).

Nevertheless, for all his loathing and his despising, he could not shake how her spirit stood so proud and strong…how her voice opened the doors of the heavens above. Something about her had shocked him straight to the marrow of his bones.

He was startled from his stony reverie as he arrived at a door at the end of a dark alley. He checked his surroundings to make sure he was alone. Satisfied that he was, he whistled low once and then three short, high notes. He waited, and a slot in the door swung open to reveal one dark eye and the other covered with a crude eye patch.

"Foxley…"he whispered a warning, hoping the man wouldn't play games with him tonight. "Oh, it's only yer." The slot closed, and the door opened letting a bright stream of light penetrate the gloomy darkness of the alley.

He strode in, and the door closed swiftly behind him and bolted shut. "Her majesty has been waiting fer yah to return, she's in the dining hall with the others'." Foxley grumbled on, and then left him to make his way through the hallways. "Thanks, Foxley," he muttered.

He made his way to the second door on the left in the third hallway, and opened the door to reveal a brightly lit and loud room full of people dressed in all sorts of colors and styles. Apparently, the party was already in full swing, 'without me' he thought ironically to himself.

As he navigated himself through the drunken crowds and the many brawls taking place on the straw strewn floor, he came to a table set by the large hearth adorning the far end of the room. He approached the young women, clad in a green tunic and wide brown trousers, who sat in a hand carved chair with her back to the hearth. She sat with her feet propped up on the tabletop, rocking back on two legs and sipping a cup of sweet apricot ale.

She turned her head of full, auburn curls and glared at him with piercing hazel eyes, daring him to make his excuse. Inspecting him up and down, she smiled, apparently pleased that he was in one piece. "Cadvan, nice of you to finally join us…" she teased him, her somber voice lifting above the chaotic noise.

Cadvan sighed, relieved to finally be home. Then he bowed to her and addressed his best friend, the Queen of the Court of Rogues.

Philip and Mairèad left the lively tavern later that night, making slow progress up the gently sloping hillside through the city. Because Phillip could barely walk on his two feet, the pair had to make frequent stops along the sides of the shop-lined streets.

"This is the eighth time we have had to stop!" Mairèad cried. She was standing in the middle of the street impatiently waiting for Philips head to stop spinning. "I knew I shouldn't have let you drink that much! I knew it! I knew it! I knew IT!" she yelled, causing her voice to bounce of the walls loudly, and ultimately making Philip wince with pain.

"Oh please, Mairèad, please be quiet, don't you have any mercy?" Philip whined, his eyes closed and his head cradled between his knees. "MERCY! Why should I have mercy on some drunken bloke who should have had me escorted back to the castle three hours ago!" With that, she threw her hands in the air with exasperation. "Gods, why me?! Mother is going to eat me alive. I have no mercy!" Mairèad turned to face the looming castle on the cliff edge. They were still half a league from the castle gates.

"No mercy, eh? Well, then that makes two of us…" a harsh voice drawled from the shadows. Mairèad twisted violently around, searching the alleys to find the source of that voice. She could feel fear prickling up and down her spine.

She did not here the muffled gasp from behind her where Philip now lay unconscious on the ground.

"Who's there? We mean no harm!" her voice quivering, betraying what she was feeling. From the shadows of a doorway, a cloaked figure stepped forth.

"You may mean no harm…" a gloved hand drew the hood off the man's head. Mairèad gasped, "Lord Bourseu! What are you doing here? You won't get away with this…" she struggled against the men who now held her arms.

"Oh, my dear, but I will! Prince Henry would never dream of letting anybody find out…" he paused, letting the meaning of his words sink in.

Then, before she could shout out, something hard hit the back of her head. The last thing that she saw was the looming figure of Lord Bourseu silhouetted by the bright stars of the night.

Mairèad woke to a pounding headache and a nauseous stomach. Fear gripped her in a wild force as she realized that she could not see anything. Her hands groped her head, and she realized with a sigh of relief that she was blinded with a rough burlap sack of some sorts. She took account of her position. She seemed to be lying on the ground on some tree roots. 'I must be a forest near the city…"' she thought to her self. Then she suddenly remembered Philip.

From somewhere near her, she heard a low groan of pain.

"Philip? Philip, is that you? Philip! Can you here me?" her questions were only answered with another low moan, followed by a cross between a hiccup and a cough.

"I feel like a boar is dancing on my head, and he's very enthusiastic about it too I might add…" Philip mumbled, she pinpointed somewhere on her left side.

"Well, that's what you get for drinking yourself into a stupor, you dung brain!" She retorted. "If it weren't for you, we probably wouldn't be in this mess!"

He only groaned louder.

"Can you move your hands to get your sack off you head?" Mairèad asked, starting to concoct a plan.

"Yah, they left my hands untied, probably thought I was dead or something." He whispered, no doubt trying to spare himself more pain.

"Alright," she said, "I want you to free yourself, and then come take this smelly thing off my head. I'm starting to feel sick myself form all this dust I am inhaling!"

She heard him move, leaves crunching as she heard him grunt with the effort to reach his feet and sit up. Then she heard a something soft hit the ground.

"Okay, I got it Mairèad." Philip whispered.

"Then get your walnut-sized brain and its body over here and untie me, Philip." She half-yelled, frustrated, it is like handling a child when it came to him, and she never had that kind of patience. She heard him scoot closer, and then big hands loosened the sack around her head. As her eyes were exposed to the sunlight, the pain in her head suddenly spiked.

He slowly got to work on the ropes that bound her wrists together behind her back. Normally Mairèad could be patient for the time it took to do that, but she was just anxious to rush along through because of the circumstances. It was probably all the tension in the air, or the fact that their captor could come back at any moment, in any minute. Finally, she was free.

"You know if you didn't get so darn drunk at that stupid tavern we wouldn't have this issue. We could be safe in our beds, or walking in the garden, or…"

"Alright, alright. I said I was sorry!"

"NO, you didn't. I'm still waiting for an apology to be said." Mairèad retorted crossly, arms folded.

"Well, excuse me, your royal highness. I'm sorry, but you are not queen yet, so you can't even think about ordering me around this much." Philip stated firmly.

"No, but I will be. Once I marry Prince Henry."

Philip rolled his eyes to the sky. "You hate the guy, and he just tried to kill you." Mairèad looked at him thoughtfully. "What?" He asked suspiciously.

"Maybe I can have him assassinated…"

"Mairèad!"

"Well we can at least put him on trial, can't we?" She asked desperately, wanting her disgusting betrothed punished in some sort of way.

"He would just deny everything. Same with Lord Bourseu. We don't have solid proof." Philip stopped, taking a deep breath. Mairèad huffed loudly, hating how she would have to admit Philip was occasionally right. "Now we could argue about this all night long, or both of us could get a move on."

"But…but we aren't in the best condition. We…we won't be able to make it to the castle swiftly." Mairèad sputtered as Philip put her arm around is neck, supporting her slightly. Even though she wanted to leave just as much, her body was reluctant to move.

"We can get help somewhere. Maybe stay at inn. I think I have a few coins." He said encouragingly, though doubted it a bit as well.


End file.
